I don't have to tell you. This has been quite the week. And, strangely enough, I awoke this morning hearing these words in my head: "This is your day, Liz." Hmm...this isn't my birthday or any anniversary that I know of. I haven't heard or seen any news that might reflect significantly on my present or my future. Heck, a rainy weekend looms, and Sunday is Mother's Day, and I am not a mother! I have been writing every day this week, and I am not entirely sure how this experiment went. Next week, I will probably return to my usual two-to-three times a week. But I feel the weight of most of the world's women on my shoulders -- so many have no freedom to speak their truth at all, much less to write it. So however articulately or awkwardly, I plow ahead.
Perhaps connected with the above, another phrase came to me as I was out on my walk: "I know where I belong." This may not seem radical, but it is. In any given moment, I have rarely felt I was where I really belonged. Even now, if I use my logical brain to define such an ideal place or situation, I stumble. But something in my heart broke through this morning, reminding me how it would feel. My knowing is in my heart. That's a start. Maybe that's what is meant by "my day". And maybe Sunday will be the day of the Great Mother!
Try to stay grounded, all, amid the swirling cruelty and hatred out there. An old era is passing.This is our time, hard as it may be to believe most mornings!
